


(un)familiar

by orphan_account



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 09:10:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17763935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Now more than ever, Wendy couldn’t have felt more like a foreigner in her birth city.or, pre-debut shenanigans.





	(un)familiar

**Author's Note:**

> get ready for some unbeta'd work fools.

There’s something about returning to familiar territory that makes Wendy’s insides churn. 

Despite her belief that guesswork is for morons, she speculates that this odd energy resonating in the abyss of her gut is fuelled by the faint, yet immutable guilt she’d retained since she was ten. Or, more accurately, that eight am flight leaving for Canada. 

It wasn’t a coincidence that the dormitory the company provided was located across the road from a park she had visited often as a child. The universe wanted her there – right here, staring at the frosted tips of bored grass that’d seemed untouched from her last encounter. It was hard to think that the park would never serve to give her youthful memories ever again. Of snow angels crusted into the floor during days where school was snowed in, or of tears that ran freely after getting lost when the sun went down. Now the park was just another place in her mind that occupied that scar of leaving Korea, one she thought that wouldn’t have been reopened so soon. 

There were boys laughing in the centre of the field, dragging themselves to the ground and surely were making memories of their own they’d want to remember. 

Unlike Wendy, who chose to flee from her home for no good reason. The park stared back at her, and under its gaze, she missed the time when she didn’t feel like a tourist. 

When she didn’t sound like one. 

Although Wendy had tirelessly studied at school to work towards her dream as a dentist, she’d studied even harder to learn English. Which had all become redundant now that her current career was forcing her to box up all her previous experiences like she was moving houses. Now more than ever, Wendy couldn’t have felt more like a foreigner in her birth city. 

Her remembrance of Seoul was enough to avoid using a GPS, but it didn’t allow her to slip by the locals unnoticed. People observing her difference was to be expected; strange looks from teenage coffee shop cashiers who undoubtedly recognised her robotic Korean. 

(A name for that order, the cashier asked, popping off the cap of a sharpie. 

Wendy, something inside her wanted to say, but her lips moved to say Seungwan instead.) 

It all came back in a wave. That nervous energy that grew into a tidal feeling of fear, and began to wash away the resolve she’d secured during her flight here. Something invisible crawled up her throat, not triggered by differences in air quality, but that same sensation she’d come to know as a child when Seung-Hee wasn’t in arms reach. The necessity of fitting in. 

Here she was, drinking her favourite cappuccino that hadn’t tasted the same, discovering that her insecurities from adolescence could become unstuck from that time. Not that she’d expected that number twenty to ward away those inner fears, but she was hopeful that her maturity would suspend her anxiety somewhat. She missed Canada of all things. 

And those things that she’d yearned for still in Korea, things that hadn’t moved ever since coming back, had managed to mirror her loss of identity. 

(How could you forget what Tteok-bokki tastes like.) 

Perhaps, Seungwan thinks, this is the backlash for turning your back on city that raised you. 

 

*** 

 

(“Are you lost?” 

“No, I’m looking for you.” 

“I’ve never seen you here before though.” 

“Exactly. I’m looking for new friends. My name is Son Seungwan.”) 

She met Seulgi first, while trying to find her vocal trainer. It was almost as if she has begun an awkward conversation with herself. 

Wendy was early to the company grounds, of course, and being the opportunistic person that she is, introduced herself to the first colleague she met. There was a glint in this woman’s eyes that she hadn’t noticed in any other trainee which had hurriedly passed her by. And her smile was an insufferable beam of light that seemed to pierce Wendy’s heart straight into desiring to become her closest friend here. 

After talking for fifteen minutes (Seulgi had assured her that both their schedules were close by), she learnt that the woman was in fact a week and a bit older than her. A fact which had Wendy bowing deeply forward by ninety degrees, and had the other woman cackling until she fell onto the floor, knocking Seungwan down with her. 

During their talk she never mentioned if she was from overseas. Perhaps it was a commonality here. They separated at a T-junction corridor with a promise to eat lunch together in the cafeteria. 

It was a wonder if she would have lived Seulgi’s life if she didn’t leave. Seven years of training, the woman had her know. It became harder to defend her choice of coming here when she’d saw Seulgi’s eyes soften after this was shared. As if it was a confession of wasted time, or lost hope. Wendy wasn’t curious to discover what lied behind that visage. 

Her voice, which her teacher had showed her among various voice of other trannies, seemed to be the product of this concealed emotion though. 

And her face. And her body. 

Wendy wondered if she had known Seulgi from seven years ago, could she still recogfnise her now? 

It’s hard to think that this person she met was ever as young or as carefree as she was. If that she was ever allowed to be a girl who made snow angels or cried about inconsequential things. Wendy has no clue who this girl is, yet somehow feels a closeness due to their differences. Similar to herself in the mirror, who was parallel yet opposite in everything she did. 

 

***

 

“Who is that?” Wendy choked out through a mouthful of banana. 

She was astounded, visibly so, almost appearing like a rude outburst. They were both in the company cafeteria, sitting side by side when she let her jaw drop and utter the question. It was more rhetorical than anything – Wendy was simply stating the question out of amazement and hadn’t expected an answer. 

Seulgi answered it like any other though; oblivious that Wendy was extremely content with just gawking at the impossibly divine creature that walked her way into the communal area. “My friend, I think she’s looking for me actually.” 

Was Wendy the only one seeing her levitate right now? 

“She’s gorgeous,” Her mouth was moving at the same pace as her brain, “how is she so gorgeous?” 

Seulgi laughed, before sticking her hand up and calling her over. She should have thanked God Seulgi hailed her over, because as soon as she smiled, Wendy was overtaken with ardent adoration. She couldn’t even muster the attention to also wave at her, only return a cheap smile. 

“Why are you saying that, are you jealous? You’re not ugly, Seungwan.” 

She would never understand nor comprehend how the emotion she felt was purer than envy. Purer than anything she’s ever felt. 

(Maybe even borderline attraction. 

That was a weird thought.) 

The only envy she’d felt at that moment was not being the senior Seulgi herself, who had the pleasure of knowing this girl ever since she joined the company.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wrote this to practice, sorry guys


End file.
